


Just a Little Bit's Enough

by BossGoose, Charmkeeper



Series: Miles to Go Before I Sleep [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A series of one shots and drabbles, BrOT4, M/M, OT3, Other, lots of other characters too - Freeform, not in all chapters though, various povs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:41:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BossGoose/pseuds/BossGoose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charmkeeper/pseuds/Charmkeeper
Summary: WELL WELL, WHAT'S THIS?This is where any scenes, drabbles, short stories, etc connected to theMiles to Go Before I Sleepwill go. We have several planned, but none of them are actually finished yet, except this little thing here.This is a drabble/scene that takes place in chapter three ofForever and a Day (Always). Several people asked about what Lars said to Noctis in the car, and since it was such a short thing, I decided to write it. Aside from placement, all you really need to know is that it's fromNoctis' POV.Please enjoy!
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Series: Miles to Go Before I Sleep [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1372261
Comments: 87
Kudos: 65





	1. A Spot of Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL WELL, WHAT'S THIS?
> 
> This is where any scenes, drabbles, short stories, etc connected to the _Miles to Go Before I Sleep_ will go. We have several planned, but none of them are actually finished yet, except this little thing here.
> 
> This is a drabble/scene that takes place in chapter three of _Forever and a Day (Always)_. Several people asked about what Lars said to Noctis in the car, and since it was such a short thing, I decided to write it. Aside from placement, all you really need to know is that it's from _Noctis' POV._
> 
> Please enjoy!

"Highness? Might I have a moment of your time before you go?"

Prompto vacated the car immediately, his motions almost comical in his haste. He'd taken Noctis' warning to heart it seemed, which was good. The last thing Prompto needed in his life was to think that Lars was on his side. In any way. Lars was on no one's side, except his own. Really, he wished he could just escape with Prompto, but Noctis knew that doing that was unacceptable, not now that he was eighteen. He settled back against the seat, prepared for a short, and probably angering conversation. "What can I help you with, Lars?"

One of the worst things about Lars was that he didn't show emotion. Ignis could hide it. He could, sometimes did, but there were always hints. His eyes narrowing in anger or lips curling just so into a smirk of victory. Lars had none of that. Lars was a fucking psychopath, you never knew. "I was just hoping you might accept a spot of advice?"

"I'll listen to it." He didn't really have much choice.

"I know that when you were younger you were given a life that would help you to connect to your people as you aged." Noctis knew Lars was mainly talking about the public schooling. He knew. Noctis wasn't stupid, he knew the rest of his life hadn't been much at all like a normal person's life. He'd gone to public schools instead of having private tutors and having three degrees by the age of twenty. He had chauffeurs, and his own apartment, and money, and a father who was king. Public school had been the only normal thing in his life, and even there there had been...a barrier. It was a barrier only Prompto had thought to hop over.

He didn't explain any of that to Lars. Lars couldn't understand that. "I was."

"You're of majority age now, and you're growing into your full duties as crown prince. I think it would be wise if you considered what friends you might keep close to you to reflect that going forward."

No one would ever know how much of an effort it honestly took for Noctis to not shout _FUCK YOU_ and get out of the car. There was the dig at Prompto. Like Prompto wasn't good enough. He wasn't. He knew. Many of the people in the Citadel would see it that way. Prompto was of Niflheim descent. Prompto was a commoner. Prompto hadn't gotten great grades in school. Prompto had other, better qualities that someone like Lars could never understand.

Noctis took a deep breath. "I understand why you might feel concerned about such things, Lars, but rest assured that I have definitely ensured that those close to me have been carefully chosen for merits such as loyalty and dedication and will continue to be in the future. However, I appreciate your concern." And then Noctis opened the door and didn't quite slam it shut behind him.


	2. Meant to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis scored high in the aptitude test, but that's not all it takes to be named Noctis' future advisor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday!
> 
> No update in the main story today, but please enjoy a baby Ignis and a baby Noct instead! <3

The letter had been sitting on the table all day. Uncle Ventus wouldn't open it. It was addressed to Uncle Tellus. Ignis knew that. He could read. He could also distinguish the royal seal up in the corner in place of any sort of stamp. It wasn't a letter about anything at Uncle Tellus' work. Anything like that was just handed directly to him. No. This was actually for him. He was sure of it. It was the results of his testing. His results were here. Ignis could not think about anything else.

Eventually, Uncle Ventus must have gotten annoyed with him, for he was pulled into the kitchen to make muffins even though this was not the usual day for baking. Even then it seemed like the hours ticked by at a maddening slow pace before the front door opened. Unlike in television shows where someone announced quite loudly that they were home, Uncle Tellus simply slipped inside after changing out of his shoes, and Uncle Ventus greeted him, normally with a kiss to his cheek and a warm smile that Ignis knew neither he nor his blood uncle could ever replicate.

"How was work?"

"It was fine. A normal day." Uncle Tellus never went into much detail about work. Ignis suspected he wasn't much allowed to. Uncle Ventus never complained.

"It's not been a normal day here. There's a letter for you on the coffee table, and Iggy is fit to burst if you don't open it right this second." Well. That was a bit extreme. He would not burst. He did want to know, though. Very much so.

"Is that so?"

"It is. Go on, now. Put him out of his misery." The words were accompanied by a light patting at Uncle Tellus' chest, and then Uncle Ventus disappeared back into the kitchen to finish dinner. Uncle Tellus went toward the table, and Ignis had a difficult time following him at a pace slower than a run. You did not run indoors, he reminded himself with every step. One had to remain composed at all times.

Watching his uncle open the letter was torture. Time seemed to slow even further. There was a second where Ignis was sure he was doing this on purpose, prolonging his pain. Then, all at once, the letter was pulled from its envelope, and then there was the further torture of waiting for it to be read. When his eyes were halfway down the page, Tellus smiled, just a little, and Ignis had hope. He kept himself very still, even though he wanted to run, and bounce, and, quite honestly, scream.

"Congratulations, Ignis. You came in second."

Ignis' nose wrinkled, his heart sinking down into his stomach. Second was not first. Second was not going to get him the title of prince's advisor. Second was not good enough. "So I did not get the role."

"I did not say that, now did I?"

" . . no. You did not, Uncle." Ignis didn't see how that wasn't the case though. He'd come in second. The person who came in first would get the role. That was simple math.

"Don't you give me that look, now. There's a reason. Testing is only one part of the process."

"That doesn't make any sense. What else would there be?" Only the brightest could be the advisor. Wasn't that correct? "I thought the test was the whole process. The smartest child would begin training."

"Well, for one thing, Ignis, I do not think this test entirely encompasses intelligence. I suspect the child who got first place is older than you. In time you may well surpass them." In time was not now, and Ignis did not care about the future in that way. Now was now. The test results and placement were now, not in time. "For another thing, while you're not entirely wrong, normally test placement does determine your position, King Regis has another wish for his son's adivsor."

"And what might that be?"

Uncle Tellus smiled again, and Ignis' heart soared. Uncle Tellus did not smile often. Ignis hoped that meant he was proud of him, even though he'd failed and only come in second. "The king wants his son to have a friend in his advisor."

That was not comforting. Ignis had never been very good at friends. Back at home with his parents, he'd never been one to play with other children. Even when they'd made day trips down into Caem proper, he'd never had much luck playing with the local children. He'd always been too . . . something for them, and they similarly not something enough for him. It had not much changed in the year or so since his parents had sent him here. There were so many other things that were different, but not that. "I am not sure I am qualified to be Prince Noctis' friend."

"Ignis Stupeo Scientia," his uncle said sternly, and Ignis looked straight up into those eyes that looked so much like his mother's eyes. "You are intelligent, strong, and loyal, and anyone would be lucky to have such a friend at their side. I have no doubt that Prince Noctis will see your worth as soon as you meet tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" That wasn't much time to prepare. How could he prepare to be someone's friend in just one night? "What should I do?"

"Be yourself, Ignis. You don't want to start your relationship with the prince off on a lie, now do you?"

"No, Uncle."

"Very good then. Now, why don't you go and tell Ventus the good news."

He very much did not run into the kitchen and tell Uncle Ventus that even though he had not gotten first, he was still apparently up for the position. He did not almost cry to tell him so. Uncle Ventus did however pick him up with ease and kiss his cheek. Uncle Tellus had not said anything about how he thought he'd done, but Uncle Ventus told him how proud he was of him at every possible moment, including the moment he was put to bed.

In the morning, Ignis went to the Citadel with Uncle Tellus, with a book about the stars in the sky under his arm. The prince's name was Noctis Lucis-Caelum after all. Perhaps a book about the lights in the night sky would please or amuse him. He could only hope. It was all he had to offer.

His meeting with Prince Noctis was not until after lunchtime, and the Citadel did not have daycare within its walls, so Ignis ended up in Tellus' office all morning, watching, staying quiet as appointments went by. Many people visited his uncle that morning, and every single one of them said the exact same thing. "He looks like you, Tellus." They said it like Ignis was his son. He wasn't. He was only a nephew. They said it anyway, and laughed when his uncle told them off for it. Ignis supposed that if he was picked, he'd have to get used to that sort of thing every single day.

At noon sharp, he followed his uncle through to a different part of the Citadel that he'd never been in before. This part looked more like a residential area, almost like the home he'd left behind in its wide spaces with nothing in them. The apartment he lived in now was not like that. It wasn't crowded, he'd come to realize, but it had felt that way at first.

His uncle paused before a set of large double doors just as one of them opened and out stepped a boy. The boy was older than him, not by a great deal, Ignis didn't think, but he was nine or ten, whereas Ignis was not yet quite seven. There was enough of a gap that when the older boy looked down at him, Ignis knew he was looking down upon him.

"Ah, Lars. I thought it might be you."

"It was," the boy whose name was apparently Lars responded. "And I assume this was the second highest score?" This, like he was an item and not a person. Lars needed to learn to be more careful with his words.

"Yes. This is Ignis, my nephew."

"You must be proud."

"Indescribably." Ignis bowed his head a little, feeling suddenly shy. His uncle did not pass out praise without truly meaning it. It filled him with such a joy that he wanted to cry. He could not cry. Not now. Not while he was waiting for a very important appointment that would shape his future.

"Good luck to you, I suppose."

"To you as well." He said that even though Ignis did not really wish Lars luck. It was the proper response. One had to be proper at all times.

"I'll drop Ignis off, and then I'll bring you back to your father. Is that agreeable, Lars?"

"If that's no trouble. I'll wait here." Lars settled against the wall as though he knew he belonged there, and beside him his uncle knocked on the door. A soft reply of 'Come' came from within, and Uncle Tellus opened the door, ushering Ignis in ahead of him.

The room within was clearly a nursery, filled with toys and chairs. Off in one corner sat the man that Ignis knew to be the king. King Regis. Ignis had never seen him in person before, but he'd seen his face many times in books and newspapers. Though he was smaller than Ignis had ever imagined, he still cut an intimidating figure, and Ignis clutched his book tightly to his chest. Should he offer the book to the king? Did it need to be inspected beforehand? He should have thought about such things before this moment. Maybe he should have given to the guard at the gate.

"There you are, Tellus, and your little one. We've never met, now have we, Ignis?"

"No, Your Majesty." He only remembered his proper manners at the last moment, and bowed from the waist. The book in his arms made the motion especially heavy, and it felt as though he might topple over if he kept the position for too long. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

King Regis laughed. The sound completely surprised Ignis, and he felt his eyes grow wide. "He's even more formal than you, Tellus. You should have said."

"I have said he's a serious child."

"Serious," King Regis repeated with a chuckle before he stood to his feet and opened the glass door that lead outside. "Noctis! Come inside! You have a guest!"

"Another one?" A child's voice said as the child it was attached to ran through the door. "I never get two!" Prince Noctis did not look a great deal like his father, Ignis did not think. There were bits and pieces that spoke to the familial bond between them - a similar coloring, a similar body type - but Ignis suspected that the more rounded face and softer features came from his unfortunately deceased mother.

"Noctis, this is Ignis. You remember Tellus?"

"Yes. Hello, Tellus." He did not say Tellus well. It said it more as two words, and even then his tongue stumbled over it. It was forgivable. Prince Noctis was only, what? Four? Just five? Fluidity of speaking would come with age.

"Ignis is Tellus' nephew. He's come for a playdate."

"Hello!" Noctis seemed much brighter talking to him, eyes wide in excitement. In contrast Ignis felt a heaviness of nerves in his chest, and he hugged his book even more tightly. "Can I call you Iggy?"

The question came as a surprise, and Ignis bit his lip before rushing to answer. "I. Yes. That would all right." It was what most people called him, after all. His parents back home, Uncle Ventus at home, the other adults he came across. In time he suspected he'd grow into the full name, but for now, he didn't really mind either way.

The prince's smile could knock the sun out of the sky, it was so wide and bright. It made Ignis only want to give him more. "Can we go back outside, Dad?"

"That would be fine. Be careful in the tree."

"Have fun," his uncle said next to him, and Ignis turned his head back toward him. "I'll be back for you in two hours."

"All right." Ignis watched his uncle head back out of nursery. He had just enough time to see him stop to speak with Lars again before the door closed. He felt oddly empty and alone without his uncle here.

"Hey." Small hands pulled at his arm, and Ignis' attention was pulled back to the prince. "Can we go outside now?"

"Yes, of course." Noctis bolted off in a run, and Ignis had little choice but to awkwardly follow, book still in his arms. Ignis had perhaps expected a vast yard beyond the door, considering that this was the Citadel and it had all the room it could possibly want, but outside it looked like it was confined to a square the size of the living room in his uncle's apartment. It was large enough to have a large tree complete with a structure that he couldn't really call a tree-house. It wasn't a house, but more a platform with small railings and a ladder that went up to it.

There were toys in the grass in near the corner there was a standard set of swings that Ignis could have found back in the yards of Caem children, but, naturally, Noctis made a beeline for the tree, and Ignis followed. The prince was clearly a quick and energetic child, and quite clearly used to this tree, for he was up the ladder in seconds. His head poked out beyond the ledge before arms reached down toward him. "Do you want me to take that?"

"Ah." The book. Noctis meant the book, so he'd have free hands to climb. That was smart. "Yes. Thank you." He had to stand on his tiptoes to bridge the gap between them enough that Noctis could reach the book, but soon he felt it lifting out of his grasp.

"Got it!"

Honestly, climbing the tree was harder. It wasn't that he'd never climbed a ladder at all before, but it was normally a two step ladder in pursuit of reaching a book on a high up shelf - nothing he could fall off of. He climbed without fear, though, and if he took twice as long to get up, Noctis seemed twice as happy to see him. "You made it!"

"So I did." He took in a deep breath, feeling quite accomplished. How could something so small feel like such a victory? "Did you want to read the book?"

The prince looked down at it in his arms, a small frown forming on his face for the first time. Ignis found he did not like the frown. He never wanted to see it again. "I . . . can't read." He offered the book to Ignis, and Ignis gently took it back.

"That's all right. It's mostly pictures. Look." He opened the book to a random page near the center. It was a beautiful picture that showed a section of the sky that depicted the Ifrit constellation. "And I can read, if you want I can read the captions, but that's not really important."

"That's . . . okay then, I guess." Noctis sounded very unsure, and Ignis leaned forward a little.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm. Just. A boy came here before you too."

"Yes," Ignis said with a nod. "His name was Lars. Did he bring a book too?" He didn't remember Lars having anything in his hands, but perhaps he'd just been too nervous to notice. Noctis nodded, though, and retreated off to the other side of the platform, where a bunch of toys were gathered. Indeed, there he picked up a book, but it didn't look anything like the book he had. It looked like a textbook.

"I don't know what it says, but it didn't look fun."

He held the book up so that Ignis could read the title. " _The Study of Socioeconomics in Insomnia_." Ignis wrinkled his nose.

"I don't know what that means."

"I suspect Lars doesn't, either, not really." He knew what socioeconomics were, of course, but even Ignis would not want to spend his time with this, and certainly not as a part of spending time with someone else. This was not a book he'd be looking into for several years, let alone for a five year old who could not yet read.

"Your book looks a lot funner."

Ignis smiled, choosing to not be a killjoy and point out that 'funner' was not a word. "Do you want to look?" The prince nodded enthusiastically, and so they settled down on the floor to look. In the end, Noctis' curiosity drove him to ask Ignis to read the captions, which Ignis did happily. After all, shouldn't a good advisor help their prince in all things? Ignis had no idea how much of their time they actually spent looking at each picture, but he knew when he closed the book it had to have been at least an hour. Half their time was gone, and Ignis found himself craving more in a way he never had with another child. "Did you like it?"

Noctis nodded quickly. "It's yours then. I did pick it out for you after all."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Why this one? Why not something about . . . bugs or something?" There was something about that the prince's face bunched up that said bugs would not have been a welcome topic. Ignis took note of that for later. "Why stars?"

"Well. Your name is Noctis Lucis-Caelum."

"So what?"

"Ah," Ignis could not help but give a small chuckle. "Has no one ever told you what your name means?" A quick shake of the prince's head was all he needed. "Well, Noctis Lucis-Caelum means 'light of the night sky'."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. And what is is the light of the night sky?"

"Stars?"

Ignis nodded. "Precisely."

"That's so cool." Little legs swung back and forth in happiness. "What about you? What does your name mean?"

"Well, my name is Ignis Scientia." He left out the middle name. The whole thing changed into something quite laughable if you added the middle name. "And that means 'science of fire'."

"That's cool, too!" Noctis exclaimed, little legs swinging even faster. "It sounds so smart!" The prince laughed, and then changed the subject like an expert. "Do you want to play something else now?"

Ignis nodded. "Sure." Noctis led him over to the opposite corner of the platform, where he had a bunch of figurines that were "definitely not dolls." When Ignis asked, he was informed that Lars had referred to them as dolls, which Lars had also told him were supposed to be only for girls. "Ah," Ignis had said simply. "Well, Lars was definitely wrong about that second point, but it's not an uncommon position to take." Even if these were to be called dolls, Ignis would not assume that most parents would think girls would want dolls depicting the daemons of old and warriors of light. Even the figurines of oracles were questionably not cliché girlish.

With that decided, though, they divided the toys between them. Noctis even let him choose one first. Naturally, his hand was instantly drawn to the tonberry, and thankfully Noctis didn't seem to mind.

This was where the king and his uncle found them later - engaged in an epic battle between toys that Noctis would have eventually won not just because he was the prince, but because he had more of the hero figurines on his side. "Are you two ready to come inside?"

"Do we gotta dad?"

"Yes, you do. You know that." Noctis groaned. "Perhaps Ignis can come back another day."

"Really?"

"Really. Maybe even soon."

"That'd be great!" Noctis was still reluctant to get down from the tree, but soon they'd put all the figurines back in the corner and Noctis was offering him the book. "You can't forget this!"

"Ah, that's yours. I brought it for you."

"Really?"

"What do we say when people give us gifts, Noctis?"

"Thank you!" the young prince all but screeched at him, and Ignis couldn't help but smile at the force of happiness and cheer that simply emanated from him. Back inside the nursery there was a nanny waiting to take Noctis away, and Noctis went with her somewhat reluctantly, the book of stars still held tightly in his arms. It did not escape Ignis' notice that the book on socioeconomics remained outside, likely to be rained on by morning, if the clouds kept looking gray.

"Thank you for coming today, Ignis," the king said to him, drawing his eye away from the prince's retreating form. "And thank you for being so nice to my son."

Ignis did not really think he'd been all that nice, but he knew when to bow his head and take a compliment. "You are welcome, your majesty."

The king chuckled at him, mumbling something about how serious he was again before he and his uncle exited the nursery. They were almost back to his uncle's office before Ignis gathered the courage to ask, "How do you think I did, Uncle?"

"I think you did very well, but I suppose only time will tell."

Time would come in about a week, when Ignis returned from his lessons to find another letter bearing a royal seal sitting on the coffee table. He had just about resigned himself to another afternoon of horrid waiting when Uncle Ventus picked it up and handed it to him. "Don't look so confused," his uncle teased. "Tellus told me that you could open it when it came. To keep you from bursting at the seams." He settled back on the couch, picking up the needles he was using for his current project. "Go on then."

Ignis hesitated for a moment before he looked down at the envelope feeling odd opening someone else's mail. Then he realized something else. It wasn't addressed to his uncle. It was addressed to him. "Uncle," he admonished softly.

"Yes, yes," his uncle said. His amusement coming through in both a tiny smirk on his face and in just how crisp and clear his Tenebraen accent was in that moment. "Go on, Iggy. Open it."

For all his restraint, the letter was open and in his hands in five seconds. Reading took a bit longer, not just because reading took longer, but because Ignis read it four times. "Well, what does it say?"

When Ignis lowered the letter to answer Uncle Ventus' question, he was frowning. "It's a summons."

"Well, that's encouraging. Does it say when you need to be there?"

Ignis shook his head. "It only says as soon as possible."

"Then it'll keep until morning. I'll call and inform Tellus, and he'll inform them that you'll arrive with him tomorrow." He was already getting up, and Ignis made haste to move so that he was sure he was out of his way.

"My thanks."

"Hey," he looked up at his uncle, who's face wore a bright smile, and hands gently cupped his face. "I'm proud of you."

"You don't know if I actually got it or not."

"It doesn't matter. I am still proud of you."

Though the words were warm and Ignis preened beneath them, they also set off a fluttering of nerves that settled inside of him. They only got worse the closer to the time of his appointment, and then somehow with very little time in between he went from sitting at the dining table to standing in the throne room and those nerves erupted like a volcano inside of him.

At first he feared the worst, for King Regis would not look at him and said nothing at all. Then, with a deep breath that Ignis saw more than heard, he spoke. "Listen well. A king cannot lead by standing still." He turned, eyes staring down at him with utmost seriousness that Ignis took with that same utmost seriousness. "A king pushes onward always. Accepting the consequences, and never looking back." The king leaned down, just a little, so that they could be on a similar level, and it was then that Ignis first realized that Noctis was behind him, just far enough away that one would consider what was being said to him private, despite the way the room carried acoustics.

"That said," King Regis spoke again, drawing his eyes back away from the prince. "A king can accept nothing without first accepting himself. Should he stand still, I ask you to stand by him and lend him a hand - as his friend and as his brother." As he spoke, the king stood back, and the prince stepped forward shyly, head bowed, the complete opposite of the boy he'd met the other day. Perhaps Noctis too was unaccustomed to this room, to things like this. One part of Ignis' mind dwelt on that. The other part was still processing these words.

This was it. This was the letter of acceptance, spoken aloud in person. He'd gotten the job.

King Regis reached out, and gently pushed Noctis forward, just a little. "Please," the word sounded like begging, like the world would end if he said no. "Take care of my son."

Noctis still seemed terribly shy about the whole thing, and Ignis couldn't blame him. He knew the proper thing to do at this juncture was to say 'yes, of course I will.' He knew he should be giving his most solemn thanks for this opportunity and making promises. None of the words would come. He instead turned his focus to the prince, and he held out his hand.

Before him, Noctis' face lit up like the lights on Crystallo Nox, and he took Ignis' hand with both of his own. His face was no longer shy, but smiling and full of joy. That was the moment Ignis knew that he had found his purpose in life. How lucky Ignis was. Most people spent their whole lives looking for purpose, looking for the thing that would fulfill them. Many people died without it. He had found it, and he wasn't quite seven years of age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tellus, the night before the visit to Noctis: I bet Lars got first place. Lars is an unlikable little brat. Ignis is a shoe in for the position.  
> Ventus, smiling fondly: Darling, your competitive side is showing again.  
> Tellus, very serously: Our child is better, and you know it.  
> Ventus, smirking just a little: Obviously.


	3. Fun with Horror Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what Daemon's Night isn't complete without? Horror movies and drinking. Though, there seems to be one among their number who completely disagrees.

Ignis and Noctis shared a look when they emerged from Noctis' bedroom. The contents of said eye conversation were probably something to the effect of Ignis was definitely going to ask Noctis about his knowing all about this beforehand - later. From Noctis' end it was probably more "I ain't telling you shit." but Noctis' face wasn't in view, so Prompto couldn't really be sure. Ignis though. Ignis was definitely saying they were going to talk later. Prompto didn't think their conversation was going to be very fruitful.

"You gonna get the candy all out?"

"Yep," Noctis said a little blandly, pulling it out of his armiger with a blue flash. "I got this. You make sure Specs isn't making pizza into something healthy."

When Prompto got into the kitchen he saw that Ignis wasn't doing that. He was simply heating them up. He was doing it in the oven, of course, rather than the microwave like normal people, but Prompto knew better than to comment on it. It was a rarity to see Ignis even acknowledge the microwave, despite how much time it might save him.

"Darling," Ignis said, pressing a bottle of cider and a vividly green something into his hands. "Please take these out? The bottle is for Gladio, and the other is for Noct."

"Sure. But. Uh. What is the other?"

"It's called a Sour Frankenstein. It's primarily lime."

"I see." Prompto blinked at it. "Noct's not gonna like this." It wasn't even a question of maybe or maybe not. Noctis would not like this. Noctis wasn't even that keen on sour candy, and this was nothing like sour candy.

"That will be his own fault, then, as he's the one who requested it." Though the words were a little clipped, maybe because Ignis knew Prompto was right, there was a playful nip in his tone that suggested he was looking forward to Noctis not liking it.

"You want me to tell him to wait on drinking it?"

"If he'll listen to you, that would be delightful."

Noctis was still getting the candy into a large plastic bowl when Prompto sat his drink down on the table next to the chair he always sat on during movies. Not long ago, Gladio had been sitting on it. He'd been telling them he had hanahaki. Prompto swallowed. "Iggy wants you to wait until we have food to drink, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Prompto left it and offered the bottle to Gladio. "Thanks, babe," Gladio whispered at him, catching his wrist before he pulled it back and kissing his knuckles.

"You're lucky Noct's not looking," Prompto mumbled, his face filled with heat.

"I heard that."

Gladio laughed, his voice filled with mirth and probably still the relief of . . . well . . . yes. Just being told yes. Prompto left them and returned to the kitchen just as Ignis was starting to pull pizzas from the oven. "Do you want help?"

"You can take the pitchers out, if you like." It looked like there were pitchers of all their drinks. There were more bottles of Gladio's drink. There was a bottle that looked like it was just sparkling water. Maybe it had a flavoring? And then--

"You made me lemon drops." How disgustingly soft his voice was coming out. Noctis would be gagging if he were here, but he couldn't help it. Iggy had even made fancy little peel curls.

"Of course. They're your favorite." That they were.

He took all the things out, setting it up so that pizza could be stacked carefully in the middle of the table. It was clear to Prompto that once they started the movie, Ignis didn't intend for any of them to get up for drinks or food. That was fine by Prompto.

Noctis threw the bowl of candy on one side of the coffee table, and when Ignis came back out, he had a bowl of what looked like actual, real life bon bons and pizza boxes. They then finally settled down and started the movie.

Naturally, Noctis was the first to reach for food, grabbing three slices of pizza before sitting back in his chair. It was at that point that he picked up his drink, and Prompto quickly reached over Gladio to push Ignis' knee. He looked up just in time to catch Noctis' reaction, which was essentially his whole face puckering up and him barely suppressing a cough. "Why is that so sour?!"

Prompto threw his head back and laughed, but he could also hear Ignis give a bit of a chuckle himself before saying, "To be entirely fair, Noct. It is lime, and sour is in its very name."

"You picked it, buddy."

"Ugh," Noctis grimaced as he sat the glass back down on his table. "Regret." He picked up the clicker instead and clicked all the way through the commercials to the main film.

What was the main film? Well, since it was Daemon's Night, the Redbox had been chock full of horror movies - old and new. That had included the entire Marybeth series. Well, up to its current point, of course. What was Marybeth? Well, some forty years ago there had been a husband and wife team (The Waltons) who had saved a lot of people who were being haunted or scared by haunted things. Some people said they were hoaxes, while other people said they were saviors. Somewhere in Lestallum, their old house still resided filled with the daemonic things they'd taken from people's homes. Marybeth was one of those items. She was a doll. Prompto didn't know what the actual doll looked like, but he hoped it wasn't like this. Or maybe he did, because anyone with a real brain would run from what she looked like in the films they'd made.

For horror films, they were somewhere between terrible and good. Films about the Waltons had been being made since before Prompto had been allowed to watch them (and to be perfectly honest, he'd probably been allowed to watch them before he should have been), so he'd seen almost all the movies that were considered to be of the same universe, but Noctis had decided to focus on the Marybeth movies, even if that left the story a little disjointed.

Noctis had started with the first movie in terms of timeline, which was basically about how Marybeth had come to be daemonically possessed out at an old girls orphanage in the middle of the wilds of Duscae. As these movies usually did, the first half hour or so was safe from jump scares and blood, so Prompto made sure to eat all the pizza he was probably going to before that point, as well as two bon bons, though, naturally, those were so delicious he might have to sneak a few later, even after he had his pitcher of lemon drop in his system.

He was starting on his first drink just in time for the first minor scare, and that was perfect timing. That meant that by the time he was scared out of his wits, he'd be at least half drunk. Honestly, that was half the fun. "You can have mine too," Noctis whispered to him, offering him his barely touched glass of sour Frankenstein, and honestly, that was a temptation he didn't even bother to resist.

"It's good," Prompto said earnestly after his first couple of sips. "I-D-K what your problem is, Noct."

"You're a heathen," Noctis hissed back, "and it's _your_ problem."

Prompto shrugged at him and downed the rest of Noctis' glass. Noctis grabbed an entire handful of candy. Such was their friendship.

Even with an ever increasing amount of alcohol in his system, it only took Prompto until the point when one of the girls was thrown from the top of some stairs for him to notice that something was wrong. Not with the movie, food, or drink, but with Ignis. Ignis wasn't really normally the sort of person who fully relaxed except in his own home. That was true. He always held some poise, even when he was just somewhere with his friends. However, even with the earlier conversation in mind, and even with Gladio now technically a part of their relationship, Ignis should not have been sitting on his side of the couch with his feet firmly against the floor, back so straight you'd think he was giving lessons on posture.

"Iggy?"

"I'll be right back." As though hearing his name called had activated a spring in him, he bounced up to his feet and walked around the couch. "Just a visit to the washroom."

"Okay?"

"Do you want me to pause it?" Noctis called after him.

"No!" Ignis said quickly, very quickly. "That's quite all right!"

Prompto and Noctis locked eyes. 'What's up with him?' Noctis mouthed at him. In return, Prompto shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea. He was going to find out.

"Do you think it's me?" Gladio's voice whispered into his ear, making Prompto jump a little. "Do you think we should trade spots?"

"No," Prompto said softly in return. "I don't. I don't think that's it." Because if it were, Ignis would be pressed into the arm of the couch, right? He wasn't. He'd just been sitting so rigidly. He was uncomfortable with something, but Prompto didn't think it was Gladio at this point.

That idea proved to be correct when Ignis returned a minute later, looking a bit paler than normal, but he didn't sit himself down any farther away from Gladio. In fact, if anything he sat himself all that much more closely to him. Their legs weren't quite touching, but they were certainly close enough to be considered within one another's space.

Prompto poured himself another lemon drop. Asking probably wasn't going to get him anywhere. Either what it was would come to a head, or he'd drag it out of him later at home. ( _Their_ home. It was still a marvel.)

Three drinks later (his own pitcher was gone, and he was working on Noctis' pitcher. He wouldn't consider himself gone, but everything was definitely soft at the edges now), one of the girls had just thrown the evil doll down a well. Something came back up to drag the girl down with it. That was apparently when it actually became too much for Ignis. All he got was a soft gasp, and then the couch shifted. When he looked over, Ignis had buried his face into Gladio's shoulder.

Ignis was scared. Of the movie? Of all the possibilities, this had been the one that had never occurred to him. Ignis was such a logical man. Prompto had never thought that a movie could scare him. It was on a screen. It wasn't real. Prompto got scared, but that was half the fun, and it was safe. Nothing was actually going to hurt him. He knew that. He'd expected Ignis to know that times ten. "Are you okay, Igster?"

"I'm fine," Ignis hissed back as though he were offended by the very notion. Between them, Gladio chuckled. Ignis flicked him, and Prompto didn't imagine that it was a weak flick.

"It's okay, Iggy. I'll protect you." As though to prove it, Gladio wrapped an arm around Ignis' shoulder and pulled him closer.

"You shut your trap!" His words may have had bite to them, but Prompto couldn't help but notice that Ignis also didn't move away.

By the end of the first movie, both pitchers of drinks were gone, and Prompto knew he was at a tipping point. He shouldn't ask for more. Any more and there would be a terrible hangover in the morning, and he'd already had one of those recently. He didn't want another. While Noctis set up the second movie, Prompto went to the bathroom himself, and when he returned, he happened upon the cuteness that was Gladio leaning over Ignis, whispering something into his ear that he couldn't hear.

Yes. He really liked this a lot.

He sat himself back down on the sofa a little harder than he'd meant to, and suddenly he found Gladio leaning over him instead. "You should eat some more. Maybe have some of Iggy's sparkling water."

Through the haze of nearly deep drunkenness, Prompto registered this. He nodded. "Yeah," he managed. "You're right. I should."

The pizza was long cold by now, but while Ignis might think cold pizza was a sin, Prompto had zero problems with it. Within the first ten minutes of the second movie he'd eaten three pieces and then settled back with a glass of Ignis' water, which also had a bit of lime flavoring to it. Things started to feel a little clearer pretty quickly. Gladio had good ideas.

Ignis had good ideas, too, Prompto decided at the point in the movie when the wife was chased out of the basement by what looked like a ghost. He quickly leaned into Gladio, face pressed just so against his shoulder, just enough that he could still see the screen with one eye. Gladio chuckled. "You too, huh?"

"Shh. I'm watching."

Gladio gave another chuckle, and large fingers came up and gently stroked his hair.

They all stayed like that until the end of the second film when Noctis decided they should end the night there. He probably wasn't wrong. They'd gotten a late start, and they all had work in the morning, and . . . well. Ignis was probably scared enough. Good nights were said easily and unstressed, and Noctis shut the door behind them with a yawn. Prompto knew he probably wouldn't even change clothes. He'd be asleep in ten minutes, if that.

Gladio parted ways with them almost immediately, too, but not before claiming a kiss from both of them and quietly assuring them that he was really looking forward to their date on Saturday.

He and Iggy made their way up to their apartment quietly, or maybe not as quietly as Prompto thought they were, because while he wasn't as drunk as he'd been before, he was definitely still somewhere well within the realm of tipsy. Still, he had enough presence of mind to not say anything until the apartment door was closed and he had a kitten in his hands who was demanding attention. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"About what, Darling?" That was a fair question, Prompto guessed. There were several things from this night that he could have been talking about, but to him, only one of them really mattered.

"About being really scared of horror films?"

"It's not really something that comes up on a regular basis."

"Yeah. But. We made plans. You knew we were gonna be watching them tonight. Why didn't you say something then? Why not?"

Ignis paused, and then he stepped into Prompto's space, tilted his head up and kissed him. It was so soft, so nice, Prompto almost forgot their conversation in it, but Ignis didn't. When he pulled back he answered while his thumbs stroked Prompto's cheeks. "I thought it would be all right, for one night, and I. Well, I didn't want to ruin any of your fun. The three of you were excited. I couldn't stand to take it away."

"We could have had fun with something else. There's like comedy horror. And like. Spoopy cartoons. Would have been fun too."

"But it wouldn't have been the same."

"No," Prompto whined, all but falling forward to lean his head against Ignis' chest. "But it would have been fun for you too."

Ignis wrapped his arms around Prompto and kissed the top of his head. "I think it's time for bed."

"I guess," Prompto mumbled.

He let Ignis drag him off and all but walk him through the steps of getting to bed, but once they were actually in bed, something unusual happened. Ignis fell asleep in Prompto's arms almost right away, but Prompto stayed awake far longer just thinking about . . . everything. He was awake for so long that he felt almost completely sober again by the time sleep took him.


	4. The Magitek Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday!
> 
> This side chapter is meant to serve as a sort of companion to chapter 11 of Forever and a Day (Always). Specifically about how much Cor knew about the event and how involved he was.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Contrary to the rumors that would surround the operation for years, Cor Leonis had not been in Niflheim when the Magitek army project was discovered. He'd been at the Citadel, at his desk catching up on a week's worth of paperwork, and then the phone had rung. Not the office phone, the phone that often had Regis or some whiny councilman on the other end lamenting about some decision he had or hadn't made. No. The special op phone. It almost never rung. It was almost never that bad. He'd had to dig it out from under a pile of files.

"Report," he said into the receiver once he'd managed to pick it up.

The voice that came in was gravely and somewhat disjointed. No surprise, considering that back then the cordless phones had been little better than walkie talkies, quality wise. It was clear enough. "Sir, we found something."

"I assumed." Cor was not known for dancing around issues, especially not when the special op phone rang. "Out with it."

"It's . . . gonna sound bizarre."

"I'm waiting." Whatever it was, Cor was sure it wasn't going to sound _that_ bizarre. The cold war with Niflheim had been going on for nearly a decade after all. There was only so much weird one found before it all became normal.

"We found babies."

Well, nevermind. Nothing could have possibly prepared him for that three word sentence. Cor could feel more lines forming between his eyebrows as he frowned. "Explain."

The operative did his best, but it truly did get down to the fact that the operative had almost literally stumbled upon a factory filled with babies. Details boiled down to armor production, a unique barcode branded onto each child's wrist, and each child having almost the exact same face, though the operative did also say that they were babies and that made distinguishing faces a little harder.

Contrary to popular belief, Cor wasn't big on putting his people in more danger than needed. "Stay close but safe. Await further instructions."

"Yes, sir."

Cor hung up the phone, then abandoned all his paperwork to march straight up to Regis' personal office. His poor secretary tried to tell him he was in a meeting, but Cor ignored her and continued his march right on in. "Out," he grouched at the councilman, who immediately squawked about his manners but also hurried out as though he'd kill him for the disobedience. He might have. He was officially in that sort of mood. (He wouldn't have, not really.) When the door shut behind the councilman, he turned his attention to the other person in the room beside Regis. He was technically also a councilman, but he'd stepped into Weskham's shoes after he'd left, and that would forever peg him as a friendly advisor to Cor - if advisors were ever friendly. "Out," he said to Tellus Scientia anyway. "I need to talk to Regis alone."

Tellus tutted at him, and Cor couldn't blame him. Tellus was used to knowing everything by now, and Cor knew he could be trusted to keep it secret. That wasn't the problem. The problem was much more that while Cor didn't think he and Ventus would ever have children, as neither was really much the type, Tellus did have a small nephew. Lady Scientia, her husband, and their child might live down in Caem, and Tellus might have never actually seen the boy, but Cor knew that said nephew's birthday had been last week. That meant Tellus knew it too, and that meant Tellus cared. He would not be the one to put the idea of small children in a cold factory in his brain. Not today.

Would that he could spare Regis, with an even smaller son and the grief of a wife's death, the same.

Tellus, who was more fearless than any warrior of legend, stared at him for a moment and then simply turned his head toward Regis in question. After a moment, Regis nodded, and without so much as another tut, Tellus took his files and went.

"Thank you, Majesty."

Regis sighed. "You already screwed that up by calling me Regis in front of Tellus the first time."

So he had. He shrugged it off. "It was just Tellus," Cor said as though he wouldn't have also gotten in wrong in front of almost anyone else.

"This time," Regis returned with an amused glint in his eyes. Caught. Ah well, he hadn't come up to talk about court manners.

He told Regis the whole story, from the phone ringing to the direction of telling the operative to lay low until he got further instructions. By the end of it, that amused glint in Regis' eye was long gone, replaced with something almost pained. "Well," he said, sitting back in his chair. "It sounds like we have a factory to shut down and a lot of babies to confiscate, since Niflheim can't be trusted with them."

Cor internally sighed in relief. "So it does."

It took months. No one involved could afford to be reckless, because there were helpless babies involved. Not being reckless in any way meant time. In some ways, it had been surprisingly easy. The project had apparently been very top secret, because all it had really taken to shut it down had been taking out the people who had been working there. No one from outside bothered to come check in on it except for a delivery truck that didn't even go inside; it simply unloaded into the snow and left.

All the adults in the building were taken to Insomnia for holding while the rest of it went down. Cor didn't deal with that part directly, but from the later reports he gleaned a few things. One of those things was that there was really only one man in charge. His name was Verstael Besithia. He'd been commissioned to make an army, and he'd gotten his inspiration from old Solheim. (There was a reason Solheim didn't exist anymore. Cor couldn't understand people who pursued the past.) The army had been meant to be Magitek, the start of a new Magitek era, and at the core of it, he himself would stand.

Of course, Besithia had also had other plans, like becoming immortal. Part of the process had been to make himself new bodies to transfer into when his current one grew too old and decrepit. Thus the babies. Though they would have been models for the Magitek army, they were also clones of himself, also meant to be his side project: to create the ultimate body to transfer to.

It was disgusting and wrong.

Cor never saw the man before he was extradited back to Niflheim. Cor was glad he never saw him.

Moving the babies took a lot longer. There were only three operatives out there and nearly one hundred children, all of them frail and weak. The move took time, through Tenebrae, Cartanica, Altissia, and eventually through Caem, Lestallum, and finally Insomnia. All told it was six months before all the children made it to Insomnia safely. In fact, it had been one week to Prince Noctis' first birthday when the last of the children arrived. That was about the time that some details started getting out. That was about the time he was cornered by Tellus Scientia, who all but pounced on him as he'd been trying to go home one evening.

"I understand why you did not wish to tell me about this," Tellus' voice was calm, but Cor knew better. He was _furious_. "However, it was a mistake on your part to not include me. I could have assisted you. I could have made the transitions smoother."

"I don't doubt that. No one died, though. They're all here now, and you don't have to lie awake thinking about children in a factory. Imagining what it might have been like if it were your nephew."

"I have never even met Ignis."

"You have a picture in your wallet." It wasn't just of Ignis, of course, it had his sister and his brother in law as well, but it was still there. No one who knew him could say that Tellus wasn't a family man. He deeply was.

"You did not have to take my feelings into consideration."

"Too bad. I did anyway. Would again, if it were an option." Oh, did Tellus Scientia glare at him. It was a glare that would make a lesser man shake in his boots. He was sure it had made many a councilman shake. Cor did not. He just stared back and offered a compromise. "If you're that intent on giving yourself nightmare fuel, you can help with the redistribution of the children. Would that make you happy?"

"I would not say happy."

"But you'll take it."

"I want files on my desk by morning." Tellus left him then as immediately as he'd appeared, and Cor sighed before he turned back around to go back to his office. Tellus' files weren't going to get to his desk by themselves.

Cor made a point of never going to see the children. That was a rabbit hole he didn't want to jump down into. He had no attachments beyond his work ones, and his life worked out well that way. He wasn't heartless, though. He knew if he went to see the children it would be like someone going down to the pound. They go in with no intention of adopting anything, but walk away with two cats and a dog. He couldn't afford to do that. Instead, he kept up with where the children were going.

It took almost another year for all of them to go to their new homes. Fifteen of them stayed in Insomnia proper sprinkled between different districts and backgrounds. Another forty children went to other places throughout Lucis. One was even as close as northern Leide. Twenty-one children ended up in Accordo and eighteen in Tenebrae, all in good homes.

The last thing Cor did with the case was redact and seal all of the children's early files. No one below a certain security clearance would be able to see them at all, and it took two more levels to see them without the redaction. He also had it set up so that he was personally notified whenever those files were accessed for anything more than a standard background check for things like job interviews. He was going to keep up with it, perhaps for the rest of his life, and Cor was okay with that.

After a couple of years the whole case settled down. It had never made the big news in Insomnia. After all, most of Insomnia was stuck inside itself. Even the rest of Lucis didn't make that much of it, but Cor kept up with the news of it overseas, and he was pleased to know that the public outcry at using babies, even cloned babies, to make an army made the public of Niflheim furious. Cor knew that if an attempt was made again it would not be for many years. Hopefully by then the war would have died down. Hopefully.

By the time there was a picture of a solemn looking five year old on Tellus' desk, the world had all but forgotten about the case of the Magitek clones. Not Cor. Years and years went by and the clones had all but disappeared into the normal population. No notifications came up on his wall. Nothing popped up in the news. They'd blended. At least they had until one October almost fifteen years after the clones had been discovered.

The notification on his email was a surprise. He'd gotten other, much more minor notifications over the years. A couple as the older children had wanted part time jobs or had applied to private schools. A few had given him notifications for medical reasons. None of them had been like this. None of them had been trying to access the early files. He read down the email. The notification had come through for a boy whose name had become Prompto Argentum. Below the redacted files there had been nothing unusual. He'd broken a couple of bones as a young child, but nothing serious. He wasn't currently applying for anything. In fact he was going to a public school.

Wait.

Cor squinted at the screen. Was that? Yes. It was the very same high school that Noctis attended. Who had accessed this file? A couple more scrolls with his mouse revealed that it had been none other than Ignis Scienita. Cor sighed. Of course it had to be a Scientia. Why couldn't it have been someone who would leave well enough alone? Cor got up. He was probably still in his office. He'd better nip this in the bud now, or Ignis would find a way to get the full access. In many ways Ignis was just a younger Tellus. If he had unanswered questions, he'd follow them to the ends of the earth.

He did in fact find Ignis in his office, not terribly surprisingly with a Gladiolus Amicitia reading over his shoulder. He was right. It had to do with Noctis, then. There was no other reason they'd be together at this time of day, both reading the same screen.

"Ah, Marshal. How can we help you?" Gladio stood a little straighter. Ignis leaned forward. That, Cor supposed, was the difference between them.

"I got an email saying that you're looking into a Prompto Argentum."

"Yes," Ignis said quickly, almost excitedly. "His Highness has made a new friend at school, and I ran a background check to make sure he was suitable and a non-threat."

"And?"

"And he seems normal." Ignis paused for a moment. "Until you get to his earliest files."

"They're redacted," Gladio supplied.

"Yes, that why I'm here."

"Oh?" Ignis sounded quite hopeful, but Cor knew he was about to be disappointed.

"There is absolutely nothing in those files that would make him a threat to Noctis. It's only about the nature of his adoption. Nothing to worry about at all."

Ignis frowned, the little lines that formed between his eyebrows were an exact match to Tellus' own. "I mean it, Ignis, Gladio. Respect his privacy on that matter."

"I suppose, if you're positive that there's not a threat."

"I am."

Though Ignis had sounded fairly skeptical about it, he'd left it alone, and Cor didn't have another notification for over two years. The next time he got one it was also from Ignis, accessing the same files directly after he'd taken time off for surgery. Well. Cor didn't even want to think about the things that little bit conveyed, and he left it alone completely. Considering that the files weren't accessed again after that, it had probably been a one time thing in the aftermath of his surgery. Someone, perhaps Gladio, had even talked him out of it.

Cor heaved an internal sigh of relief and didn't expect it to come up again.

And then it did, in early March.

This time, when it came up, it was the full thing. Someone had accessed his full file, unredacted. Cor didn't even bother scrolling to the end of the email. He only heaved a great sigh. Took his jacket, and only half ran toward Ignis' office.

When he opened the door this time, there was no Gladio reading over his shoulder. No, of course not. This time Ignis hadn't gone out of his way to access those files for anything related to Noctis or anything out of suspicion. Of course not. It wasn't a widely known fact, but Cor knew they were dating now. It was in little whispers between those that knew. He thought he had even once caught Ignis texting with a smile. No, this was personal, now. He'd wanted to know and so now he did.

"Good afternoon, Marshal."

"I suppose you know why I'm here." He clicked the door shut behind him. He even locked it, just in case someone else tried to walk in while they talked.

"I do." His eyes lifted away from the computer screen for the first time. He lifted his chin in challenge. He wasn't sorry in the least. Of course not. Damn Scientias and their curiosity.

"Are you happy?" He asked. "Now that you know?"

Those eyes lowered themselves back to the screen. There was something terribly . . . soft in his expression now. "Of course not," he whispered. "It's terrible. It shouldn't have happened." He paused. "I understand why it is redacted."

"There _is_ usually a reason."

"And yet, I couldn't bear not knowing."

"Would it have changed anything?" he challenged. "The not knowing? Does knowing change anything?"

Eyes darted toward him again, and Ignis snapped his laptop shut. "Of course not! It changes nothing! It-" his voice faltered. Hands came to rest neatly on the desk in front of him. "It changes nothing at all." That was a lie, Cor thought. If anything, it made Ignis more fond of the boy that the whole guard knew as Noctis' friend. "I cannot even find myself to hate the actions themselves, because they brought him here. It's terrible, but he's here."

"Ignis."

"Yes? Uncle Cor?" Cor smiled. Little shit. He wasn't getting out of the dog house that easily.

"He doesn't know."

The silence that stretched between them was telling. "He doesn't?"

"No. He wouldn't. They were adopted out to families that didn't know."

"His wrist, though. He covers it constantly, as though he's ashamed."

"Wouldn't you, Ignis?" He asked. "Wouldn't you cover your wrist if you'd grown up with a brand that made you seem like an item for sale at the supermarket? Wouldn't you cover it if you didn't know what it meant and were probably afraid? Perhaps even teased for it before you knew better?"

There was another stretch of silence. "Yes. I suppose I would."

"I know you think knowledge is good, but don't tell him. Nothing good would come of him knowing. Let him be ignorant."

"I would not deny him if he asked." Cor let Ignis find the rest of the words that he could tell wanted to spill out. "But I am not such an arse that I would knowingly pull the rug out from under him like that." Cor supposed he would have to accept that. At least he knew he was some level of an ass. It was something else to mull over: the fact that he now cared that much for someone other than Noctis - enough to try and spare their feelings. Scientias were not known for empathy or treading lightly with emotions. It said something, and Cor would let it go.

"That's all I can ask," Cor said before he left Ignis alone to mull over all his new knowledge.

The next time an alert came into his inbox, it was once again about Prompto Argentum. It was now November, and this time it wasn't Ignis. This time it was for his arrest as a suspected sleeper agent.

Cor did not even stop to grab his jacket on his way out. He didn't need it. His fury would keep him warm.


	5. Not-So-Self Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis takes care of everyone. Sometimes Ignis needs to be taken care of. That's what Prompto's for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! Please enjoy. <33333

Prompto jerked awake, phone slipping from his fingers and bouncing off his forehead before sliding down to disappear between couch cushions. He groaned – fuck, that had hurt – and sluggishly rolled over to dig for it. Ugh. He’d fallen asleep on the cough waiting for Iggy to get home. When Ignis had texted him about that last meeting warning him it would be “quite late” before he’d be home, he’d thought he was up to waiting. Though it was already a bit late after heading home from hanging out with Noct, he ordered in from Ignis’ favourite restaurant, tucking it into the fridge untouched despite a certain kitty’s insistent meowing (she knew there was shrimp in there!). Then he settled in for a long session of King’s Knight on the couch. It didn’t matter if he stayed up too late. After all, tomorrow was Saturday. And eventually, he’d fallen asleep.

Which led to now. What had woken him up? Surely Iggy wasn’t just now getting home? 2:12 a.m. . . . that was late, even for him. But if Iggy had gotten home, he definitely would have woken him up, if only to make him actually move to the bed. Beds were for sleeping, after all.

He pushed himself off of the couch, stumbling a little as he made his way across the dark apartment toward the entry way. Something had woken him up, and he had the sort of half-awake feeling it had been a closing door, even if it was. Totally quiet now.

He flipped on the entry light, startling at the sight of his boyfriend standing there, one shoe off and seemingly making no move to remove the other. The brunet flinched as well, squinting adorably at the sudden light as Prompto took in the sight before him. He looked dead on his feet, pale with dark shadows under his eyes like bruises, not quite steady and dripping rainwater on the hardwood floor. Not for the first time, the blond found himself dismayed at the lengths his boyfriend pushed himself to.

“Iggy?” He kept his voice soft as he reached for him, one hand bracing against his shoulder as his boyfriend swayed slightly in place. Had he driven? It was too late for public transport. _Astrals._ “Let me help you with that, okay?” He slid down to his knees, bracing against the taller man’s hips for along moment before a hand moved to rest against his shoulder. First things first, getting that other shoe off. Ugh, it was so wet, and the laces were so saturated and knotted together. Not to mention Iggy’s fancy shoes were just snug and weird. They were hard to get off. It took a few minutes of struggle, but he managed, placing the sopping shoe aside and slowly pushing himself back to his feet. He pulled his boyfriend’s fancy coat off as well, hanging it nearby to drip dry. There were going to be puddles in the morning, but that sounded like a problem for Future Prompto.

“Have you eaten?” Knowing Iggy, he probably didn’t really need to ask. Knowing Iggy, the answer was no – because Ebony didn’t count, damnit! The brunet’s mouth opened as though he were going to speak, but after a moment, he just shook his head slightly. Prompto steered him toward the kitchen. However tired he was, he needed to eat something. At least half a bowl. Preferably warm, though Future Iggy would probably be horrified to remember he’d reheated his favorite paella in the microwave. Too bad.

Ignis perked up at the smell of the food heating, even picked up his spoon with some enthusiasm and a quiet word of thanks, but he was drooping again within a few spoonfuls, and by the time his spoon was scraping bottom, his free hand was propping his chin up as he ate. Prompto waited patiently, sweeping away the empty bowl and leaving it in the sink, unrinsed and unwashed – that, too, was a problem for Future Prompto – before returning to his boyfriend’s side. Bleary eyes blinked up at him, a subtle shiver trembling through the man’s frame as the softest sigh fell from his lips.

“I’m tired.” The words were a murmur, and he _so_ sounded it.

“I know, Iggy. Just a little longer, okay?”

Ignis let himself be led through the bedroom to the attached bathroom, offered no protest as Prompto stripped them both down, tossing his own clothes toward the laundry hamper but leaving his boyfriend’s in a wet and sodden heap on the bathroom floor. Keeping one arm around his boyfriend to keep him steady, Prompto turned on the water, and once it had warmed, pulled the brunet in after him. Steam began to fill the room, and something in his chest twisted at the sight of the taller man lifting his face toward the spray, leaning into it to soak up the heat. He soaked the image in a moment before he got to work, soaping up a washcloth with that pricey rosemary-mint soap Ignis liked before turning his attention to scrubbing his boyfriend down, rubbing the soft cloth against smooth skin and reveling in his soft sighs as the man grew ever more pliable and boneless beneath his touch. He massaged shampoo into his hair, fingers working in circles against the brunet’s scalp until he gave a low groan. Prompto smiled, holding him upright beneath the spray until the water ran clear.

He turned off the water, stepping out long enough to grope desperately for a clean towel he probably-definitely should have had on hand before actually getting into the shower. He wrapped the soft, fluffy cloth around the other man, pulled him out to sit on the closed toilet seat while he toweled them both off, smile growing as his boyfriend leaned into the touch.

Taking advantage of the opportunity that afforded, he peppered soft kisses against swaths of pale skin, ending with a soft, chaste, and very mutual kiss on the lips before he pulled his boyfriend back to his feet.

“Bedtime!” he announced. Which meant clothes, since Ignis didn’t like to sleep in the nude. Which meant one of Gladio’s stolen tshirts, because anything else was just too much work. Sure, he was planning to wear that shirt, but Iggy was going to look hella cute all rumpled and sleepy in the morning . . . assuming Prompto could actually manage to get up before him. It was Saturday, but Iggy tended to get up too early even on his days off.

Better make sure the alarms on his phone were off. Or just leave it somewhere he couldn’t hear it, maybe. The kitchen table was good, right?

Ignis was happy enough to be tucked into bed, curling up against him when Prompto joined him and tucking his face up against the blond’s shoulder. Prompto kissed the top of his head, pulling the blankets up over them before tucking his arms around the other man. Within moments, he felt the soft pat of Ms. Marbles joining them, crawling along the top of their tangled legs.

“I love you, Iggy.”

“ – ve you.” He’d thought the brunet was already asleep, but the words came on the exhale of one last sigh. He grinned, pressing another kiss to his boyfriend’s hair. It was a little strange to see him sleeping – as much as he could see in the relative darkness of their room – but the truth of the matter was that Ignis Scientia was a man who overworked himself more often than not, and while he considered it his perogative to take care of the people around him . . . sometimes he just needed to be taken care of, too.

And Prompto was happy to be the one to be able to do that for him.


	6. Yetis and Kittens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! Please enjoy! <333

The creature crept closer to the girl, snuffling loudly as blind eyes roved back and forth. Drool dripped from the creature’s fangs as it leaned closer. For a moment, it seemed like all would be lost, then the creature wheeled away, attention caught by the only other remaining survivor. The girl didn’t hesitate. Her hand slapped the light switch. A single bulb flickered above, sparking the gas leak that had been filling the room for several minutes now, and both remaining survivors dove for the nearest door, the cabin exploding behind them in a dramatic fireball. The only sound that could be heard over the explosion was the eerie shrieking of the creature, which stopped abruptly as it, presumably, met its end.

The credits rolled to the background of the rescue helicopter finally arriving to take the last two survivors to safety. That, and the sound of one Tellus Scientia chuckling.

“Honestly, they couldn’t possibly be any more predictable.” It was a common complaint, but then, there was a comfort to the routine. “It’s always the same types that survive. She has to be pretty, but not too pretty. He has to be capable, but not too popular.” He leaned back on the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d almost hope one of these days that the daft cheerleader or the arrogant alpha male was the one who survived, just of a change of pace, if he didn’t loathe the stereotype so much.

His beloved leaned forward to pick up the clicker, pressing the button to turn the television off before turning to reply. Rather than speaking, lips turned down in a worried frown, and for the first time since the final confrontation began, Tellus turned to see how the third member of their viewing party had taken the movie in. His nephew sat pressed against the arm at the other end of the couch, knees tucked against his chest and eyes wide as saucers, absolutely petrified.

Why, again, had they thought it was an acceptable proposal to let a six-year-old watch the latest blockbuster horror flick to hit home video?

“Oh, Darling.” Ventus’ voice had gone all soft the way it did sometimes as he moved to kneel in front of the boy, one hand coming up to rest against the boy’s small shoulder. “You know it isn’t real, right? You’re perfectly safe.”

“That’s not completely true, actually.” The boy had started to nod but froze again when Tellus spoke. “The yeti are historically based off of snow behemoths, which if accounts are to believed were once far more common across Eos. . .”

The boy’s lip wobbled, then big fat tears streaked down his cheeks, eyes bright and wet. His next breath stuttered out in a partially contained sob.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The tone was as much disbelief as anger. “No, not you, Darling,” his lover added, pulling the boy into a hug. He tucked the sobbing boy up against him, murmuring softly even as brown eyes narrowed in a pointed glare.

Yep. Tellus was in trouble. Clearly that was exactly the wrong response to the situation, though Tellus’ first instinct was, unfortunately, to inform rather than comfort . . . though personally speaking, he found the facts plenty comforting himself. But sometimes, he was learning, the facts really. . . just were not helpful, when dealing with a child.

“I’ll go make some tea,” he suggested. That was helpful, was it not? And he could start the milk warming. Knowing Ventus, he’d be in within five minutes to make cocoa. That was a staple for upset children, apparently.

“You do that.”

Tellus stepped into the kitchen, the sounds of him pulling the pan and kettle out, filling them and setting them to warm and boil, not quite drowning out the sound of his partner’s voice, soft and gentle and sweet. He smiled. At least one of them was good with children, because Tellus, for once, had no idea what he was doing, and frankly, the books weren’t helping much. Asking those who were fathers in his circle helped considerably more . . . once they stopped laughing.

Predictably, Ventus followed within only a few minutes, leading the still sniffling boy to wait at the kitchen table before moving to the stove. Seeing the milk already heating, he opened the overhead cabinet, fetching the remaining ingredients: cocoa, sugar, cinnamon, and those tiny little marshmallows that Tellus was pretty sure Ventus loved more than anyone else.

“Have you literally never spoken to a child before.” The man’s voice was calm, even, and it certainly wasn’t a question, but Tellus wasn’t fooled. Ventus wasn’t pleased. He wasn’t happy at all. “I’d say you can handle it when he has nightmares later if I thought you wouldn’t do it again.”

That was a little harsh. He was terrible with kids, yes. But he could learn. Surely. There was time.

And then the kettle whistled, and Tellus set to making them both a mug of tea while Ventus mixed up the hot cocoa. Soon they were gathered around the table, warm mugs in hand as Ventus regaled the boy with a story about the cat he saw every morning on the way to the bakery. Soon after, the child was drooping, images of abominable snowmen replaced, albeit temporarily, with that of a soft and playful kitty chasing leaves and lounging in sunbeams. It was Tellus who scooped up his nephew once he'd fallen asleep, Tellus who cradled him carefully in his arms to carry him up to bed, to lay him down and tuck the covers nearly around him. Even his heart was warmed at the sight of the boy, long lashes against round cheeks as he gently drifted in sleep.

Yeah. Tellus Scientia wasn’t so great with kids. He was terrible at being a dad, or even a very effective uncle to a small child. But this? He wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not even a moment. Not for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 hours later, upon the child waking up screaming:
> 
> Tellus, without waking up: It's your turn.  
> Ventus, already getting up to go comfort the child:  
> 


	7. A Disrupted Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday!
> 
> No update to the main story today. (I know you're all itching for it, sorry.) Instead you get this little backstory chapter! Hopefully it will answer some of the questions you may have about a couple of things. OR MAYBE IT WILL JUST GIVE YOU MORE QUESTIONS.
> 
> In other news, a friend of both of us has posted her first FFXV fanfiction for Halloween! Please [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201725/chapters/66443066) and give her and her story some love to welcome her to the community. <3

Noctis had a daily routine.

That routine started at 6:45 in the morning when he woke up. At seven, one of three nannies would come in and make him get dressed. This was a process that took about fifteen-ish minutes, and if Noctis were being honest, most of that time was spent pulling him away from toys. After he was dressed, he was taken down to breakfast. Breakfast always took too long, even though Noctis all but shoveled it into his mouth every morning. It was weird, just sitting at a long table with no one else at the other side and a nanny standing three steps behind him. And he was. Alone. Almost every day. His father almost never came down for breakfast. Dinner was their meal together.

Before, not having anyone there had been a reason for Noctis to push his food around on his plate, really prolonging his sadness. Not anymore. The sooner he finished his food, the sooner he could run down to the first floor of the Citadel. That was the next part of the routine. Though he was not actually supposed to get there until eight, Iggy always arrived with his uncle at exactly 7:45. Seeing them walk through the door was easily the best part of any day. Ignis had a great smile that always opened wide when their eyes met, and it always made Noctis smile, too.

"Good morning, Highness." Noctis did not like Ignis calling him Highness, but he knew that when they were still in the front area of the Citadel, it was expected. Because people were weird about who you were the son of. Only the first time, they had agreed. Only the first time he talked to him every day was he to be called "Highness." He was to be Noct after that.

"Good morning, Advisor Iggy."

If possible Ignis smiled even brighter. It made Noctis feel warm.

After Iggy's arrival was lessons. Noctis didn't really like lessons, but with Ignis by his side, it was easier, because he was smart. If there were things Noctis didn't understand (which was pretty much everything), Ignis helped him to understand. Lessons went until 11:30 when lunch was served. At least, that was what was supposed to happen. Instead, at 11:15, one of the maids came into the room and took Ignis away. He didn't come back.

Lunch came and went, afternoon lessons came and went, naptime came and went, even playtime came and went. Noctis kept waiting, but Ignis didn't return. Ignis normally left with his uncle at five o'clock, but five o'clock came and went, and Ignis didn't even come to say goodbye. It was sad, lonely, and no one would tell him anything. They wouldn't even tell him when he asked nicely with please and cherries on top. It wasn't for them to say.

At six o'clock, he was escorted down to dinner with a bowed head. When he got to the dining room, he lifted his head to find another disappointment - his father wasn't seated, and his place was empty. Great, he got to eat dinner alone, too. Best day ever.

At dinner, he did push his food around, not feeling hungry. Even when dessert came around, he shook his head. He'd been alone practically all day. He didn't want to eat. He just wanted to go to bed and wake up in the morning to find Ignis waiting for him. Would that even happen? If he weren't here today? Would Ignis come at 7:45 with his uncle? Or would he wait until eight and find he had no friend again?

At bathtime, he considered throwing a tantrum, but he didn't. He was too sad. Too tired. Where was Ignis? Where was his father?

It wasn't until he'd put on his pajamas and was let off into his bedroom that something else happened. He saw his father sitting at the edge of his bed. "Dad!" He rushed forward and set his hands on his father's knees. His father smiled down at him. It was a warm smile, but Noctis knew it was also tired. Dad should go to bed, but first, Noctis wanted answers. "Dad, what's happened?! You missed dinner, and Iggy was taken away at lunch, and - "

He fell silent when his father placed a hand on top of his head. "Yes, Ignis. Would you like to go see Ignis?" Noctis nodded quickly to make sure that his father knew he really, _really_ wanted to see Ignis. "All right. We'll go see Ignis."

Noctis had to get dressed again first, but then they went down into the parking garage, and his dad actually drove his own car. Dad never drove the car. It was always someone else: Cor, or Clarus, or someone who's name he didn't know yet. Never dad. Before that moment, Noctis hadn't known his dad even could drive.

In the night, they went past lights that seemed like something out of a fairy tale. His dad drove them away from the Citadel and down into the city. He parked in another parking garage, smaller, but no less echo-y, as they got out and closed the car doors. His father held out his hand, and Noctis jumped at the chance to take it and walk hand in hand as they made their way inside.

Inside was bright, full of lights and color, unlike the Citadel. The elevator had music inside it, unlike the Citadel. Each of the doors had little numbers and letters on them, unlike the Citadel. His dad stopped in front of a door that was halfway down the hall they'd stepped out into and knocked. When the door opened, it was Ignis' uncle standing behind it. "Oh. Majesty."

"None of that, Tellus. May we come in? I have someone who's very worried about his little friend." His father paused. "It's me. I'm worried about my little friend."

Ignis' uncle didn't laugh at what Noctis thought was supposed to be a joke, but someone behind him did. Noctis twisted his neck around to see half of another man. He wasn't pale like Ignis or his uncle, and his clothes were so bright and happy. Why couldn't everyone dress like that? He wanted to dress like that. "Let them in, Darling."

"It's hardly appropriate. The king--"

"I don't see any kings here." The man came up behind Ignis' uncle, a hand settled gently on his arm. "I see a concerned friend who came all the way out here in a time of need. It was sweet of you to come, Regis." Noctis wasn't sure if Ignis' uncle stepped back or if he was pulled back by the other man, but they were the allowed in the door.

While Noctis was taking off his shoes, Ignis' uncle and his dad started talking very quietly. "I kept telling them this would happen."

"You know that it's not that they didn't believe you. If that were so, they would have never sent Ignis to you."

"They should have come with him."

"Come now, the only thing you and your sister had in common was stubbornness. You're a controlled man, Tellus. Your sister was wild and free. Once they left for Caem, they were never coming back. We should thank the Six that they loved Ignis enough to let him go. I'm not sure I could have done it for Noctis."

"Hey there," Noctis' attention was dragged away by the brightly dressed man, who knelt in front of him, arms folded over his knees. "I'm Ventus. Ven, if you like."

Noctis ducked his head shyly. "I'm Noct. Nice to meet you." He seemed nice enough anyway.

"Nice to meet you, too. Iggy talks about you all the time."

At the mention of Ignis, Noctis felt himself perk up a bit. He lifted his head to look up into eyes that were as warm as they were brown. "Is he here? Dad said we could go see him."

The edges of Ventus' eyes crinkled as he smiled wide. "He's in his room. I'll take you." Ventus held his hand out to him, and Noctis had the good sense to look back at his dad. He wasn't supposed to go anywhere without a supervising adult. He did anyway, usually with Ignis, and no one ever really found out about that, but now he looked to his dad. He'd never met Ventus before. He didn't seem like someone who'd hurt him, but he waited anyway.

Almost as soon as he looked, his father caught his eye, and he nodded without hesitation. Oh good, that meant Ventus was definitely safe. He quickly put his hand in the one Ventus had put out, and he gave him a bright smile. In return, Ventus squeezed his hand and led him through their home. It was tiny, but nearly as colorful as Ventus' clothes. "Is this where Iggy lives?"

Ventus chuckled. "Yes."

"I like it." Sure it was tiny, but the colors! And look at how soft everything seemed!

"I'm glad. I've put a lot of work into it."

"You did?!"

Another chuckle. "Who do you think made all those blankets?"

"Amazing~!"

They stopped in front of a door, plain, white and closed. Ventus knocked. "Ignis? You have a visitor."

The door opened a second later, revealing an Ignis who looked very sad. Noctis pulled away from Ventus' hold. "Iggy!"

"Oh. Noct." He sounded surprised to see him, but he also sounded tired and weak, and when Noctis looked up at his face his eyes were red behind his glasses. Had he been crying?!

"I'll leave you two alone for a bit. We'll be in the living room if you need us."

As Ventus left, Ignis let him into his room. "What happened?! You were taken away, and you never came back! I was so worried! And then Dad didn't come to dinner, and - " Noctis puffed out his cheeks and clammed up as Ignis sat down on a bed covered in a tonberry pattern and patted the space beside him. So many emotions swirled around inside of him, he couldn't pick which one he wanted to feel first.

"I've mentioned that I used to live in Caem, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, my parents sent me here because . . . it was dangerous."

"How?" Noctis couldn't understand how just living somewhere could be dangerous. It was just living.

"Niflheim has been planting roots in the area for years. Every passing year they got closer." Niflheim was a country, he knew. Their lessons taught them that it was very cold there, their winters very harsh. He was more vaguely aware that his dad and the person who ruled Niflheim were in a fight. Sometimes things happened, like a while back something had happened in Galahd. That had been Niflheim's fault.

"Today," Ignis began again, "they finally went for Caem. They were stopped, but not before they killed my parents."

"What?!" Ignis parents were . . . gone? "No! Iggy! That's . . . " What did he say? Terrible? Bad? Awful? They were all words he knew, but they didn't sound right. "I'm . . . sorry."

Beside him, Ignis began to cry, and Noctis felt stuck. "I knew there was danger! I knew that was why they sent me away! I never really thought it would be the last time I saw them!" He sobbed and pushed his hands up to his eyes. Noctis reached out quickly as he almost knocked his glasses off his face. He wanted to tell him not to cry, that he didn't want him to cry, but that wasn't right. He wanted to tell him that he wanted him to be happy. That wasn't right either. How could one be happy when his mom and dad had just died?

He reached out instead and pulled at Ignis' shoulder. His friend all but fell against him. He bent to his will almost as easily as one of his action figures.

Noctis would give Ignis all his action figures if it meant he'd smile again, but he didn't think it would help. "I'll share my dad!" He said quickly. "I know it's not the same, and I know he's not around a lot, but I'll share." It didn't make Ignis smile or laugh like he'd hoped. If anything at all, Ignis began to cry even harder. He clung to his shirt and just cried, and there was nothing else Noctis could do but hold him too.

It felt like they sat there with Ignis crying onto his shoulder for a really, really long time before the door clicked open, and Ventus entered carrying two mugs of what turned out to be hot chocolate when he handed them over to each of them. Ignis was forced to let him go, but he was still sniffling as he held his mug in his hands. Ventus himself sat on Ignis' other side, one hand reaching out and rubbing Ignis' back.

"How would you like to head back with Noctis and Regis for the night? Before you object - " He added the last bit very quickly. It was a good thing too, Noctis thought, as Ignis had already been opening his mouth. " - it was Regis' idea, and I think it would be a good idea for a night or two."

"You do?"

Ventus nodded. "For you and Tellus both."

Ignis was quiet for a long minute. A long, long minute in which Noctis tried not to squirm. He wanted Ignis to come over! That sounded great! Even if Ignis was sad, but it wasn't his choice to make. No one was asking for his opinion. Normally he'd give his opinion anyway. Not now. "You won't have the funeral without me, will you?"

"Oh, of course not! Noctis and Regis will be there, too, anyway. We just think it'll be good for you to be with Noctis for a bit. It'll be good for Tellus to stay home." Ventus lowered his voice down to a whisper that wasn't really a whisper at all. It was too loud. "You don't want to see Tellus with bedhead, do you?" That made Noctis smile wide to even try and think about, but Ignis only shook his head a little bit.

"I'll go."

"Okay. Do you want me to help you pack your bag?"

Ignis shook his head, and Noctis pipped in. "I'll help, don't worry!"

Ventus smiled at him. Noctis decided he liked that smile. "Wonderful. Finish your drinks first." Ventus left them alone again a minute later, and they drank in silence until Noctis finally reached the bottom of his mug, and he decided he didn't like the silence anymore. "Ventus seems nice."

"Uncle Ventus is very nice."

"He's your uncle?!"

"Yes."

"I thought the other one was your uncle!"

"Uncle Tellus is my uncle, too."

"You have two uncles?!"

"You have multiple uncles, Noct," Ignis replied very plainly. He did, but he never saw them at all. He was sure there was some sort of reason for it, but they never visited.They sent gifts, though, from wherever they were. He was pretty sure his dad had gifts sent back. Maybe someday he'd see them, but he wasn't really worried about it. He couldn't much miss what he'd never had. Not like Ignis and his parents.

"Lets get your stuff packed up."

Ignis packed normal things like clothes, and he went off into their bathroom for his toothbrush, and a hairbrush, and just . . . really normal things. Noctis stuck not normal boring things in the bag. Like there was a book that had big pictures in it. He couldn't read all the words yet, but he knew Ignis would read it to him if he asked later. He also grabbed tonberry things. Ignis just had so many tonberry things. Sometimes when he came to the Citadel he'd be wearing a little bowtie with tonberries or he had tonberry socks, but Noctis had never realized before how much Ignis really loved them. Everything was tonberry, including the comforter and the sheets beneath them. The border along the top of the walls even had tonberries on it! There were little figurines and plushies of various sizes. He stuck a few little small things in the bag, but the final item he chose was too big to go inside.

When Ignis returned from the bathroom with his toothbrush he found Noctis standing by his bed holding onto a plush that was really almost as big as his whole upper body and even had its own little plush lantern and knife. "I don't need that, Noct."

"You do, though!"

"I do not."

"Yeah, you do, though! You need a cuddler!" He squeezed the tonberry a little tighter. It was way softer than it looked like it should be. He liked it. He was glad Ignis had something this soft. "And the bigger the better!"

Ignis sighed. Noctis couldn't really see it through the stuffed tonberry, but he heard it. "You're not going to give up, are you?"

"I'll scream if I gotta."

Another sigh. "All right. I think that's everything then."

Ignis zipped up his bag, then, and they went on out with Noctis still holding onto the giant tonberry. In the other room, the adults were still talking quietly. "Don't worry, Tellus. This won't happen again."

"What are you going to do, Your Majesty?"

"What I should have done when they attacked Galahd, or a dozen times before this."

"We both know you wouldn't have had the backing - "

"And now I will. This is the last time. I know it is a poor consolation, but their deaths will prevent many others."

"Hey there, kids!" That was Ventus' voice. His dad and Ignis' other uncle - Tellus - fell quiet. "You boys ready to go?"

"I think so."

"All right," he heard his father get up. "We'll head out, then. You take all the time off you need, Tellus. I mean it."

"I'll be back the day after tomorrow."

"All the time you need."

"Which will be the day after tomorrow."

The tonberry was lifted from his hands, and for a moment Noctis fought to hold onto it before he realized that it wasn't Ignis, but his dad, pulling it away. "I'll take this so you can see." He did kind of miss the full feeling in his arms, but he nodded his head anyway, and they all went toward the front door, where they all put on shoes, and Ignis said goodbye to his uncles.

Tellus told him to be good (which Ignis would. Ignis was always good), and Ventus gave him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. To Noctis' surprise, Ventus turned to him next and patted him of the head twice. Pat pat. "You be good, too, all right?"

"I will!" Probably. Mostly. He'd be good to Ignis, for sure. That would be good enough.

The walk back down to the car was quiet. When they got into the elevator, Noctis reached out and took Ignis' hand. Ignis didn't look at him, but he squeezed, and that was good enough for him. Ignis was still sad after all.

They held hands all the way home. Noctis was pretty sure at some point Ignis started crying again, but he knew better than to say anything while his dad was driving. He just held on tighter. He was here. He wasn't going anywhere.

The only point at which Noctis would say he wasn't good was when his father offered Ignis a guest room. Noctis put his foot down there. "No!" He said. "Ignis stays with me! They can sleep in my bed!"

"They?" His father had raised one eyebrow at him.

"Ignis and Tonberry!"

"Ah, yes, of course. How silly of me."

He had to get changed again, and it took Ignis longer to get ready for bed. Maybe because he was sad. Maybe because he wasn't used to the motions of his bigger space. All Noctis knew was that his eyelids and gotten very, very heavy by the time Ignis had come back, and he was for once happy to crawl into bed when Ignis pulled back the covers. He let Ignis be in the middle, between him and Tonberry, so that no matter which way Ignis turned, he'd have someone to hold.

He woke up more in the night than he usually did, but it was okay, because each time he did it was because Ignis was holding onto him. He knew it was because Ignis was sad, but being held like that made Noctis happy.


	8. A Father's Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! Here's the next side bit for you all to enjoy in this...busy and trying time. 
> 
> This side story takes place a bit into the future, the spring after the current events of the main story. It's just a bit of a cute, and we hope you all enjoy. <333

Contrary to popular belief, Regis did not have one child. He had five. He had a table filled with pictures of them in his office, the only personalized thing he dared to keep there.

Of course, his first child was his biological one. Noctis, through all his phases and moods, would always be his special favorite child, and it would be a lie to say that he didn't favor him. It was expected, of course. It would be odd if he didn't favor him. His own heir. There were many pictures of Noctis scattered on the table in frames of various sizes. A picture of him holding his very first fish. A picture of him holding onto a cat that was nearly as big as he was. A picture of him as a newborn in Aulea's arms . . . the list went on and on. Of course it did. He could never see enough of his Noctis.

Then there were Clarus' children, Gladio and Iris. He didn't see Iris much yet. She was still very young, and Clarus tried to keep her away from court life as much as possible. It wouldn't be possible for much longer, nearly impossible when she got into her teens, but for now Regis took holidays and other special occasions, as well as a few carefully chosen pictures, including one of an even smaller Iris holding up a tooth, her lips pulled apart in a grin that showed off her brand new gap.

Gladio was a more commonly seen face in his life and had more pictures on the table to match. Pictures included one of him having set up his first standing tent and his first day in training. One in particular showed him and Noctis sitting side by side shortly after they'd stopped seeing each other as enemies. Regis could feel the relief in his chest to just see that one. He had been so worried that they'd be a royal and shield pair that loathed each other. He was glad they'd gotten past it.

The fourth child was Ignis, who he had adopted in his heart the moment he'd seen his serious little face at the age of six. Over the years, Regis had told himself that the only reason he hadn't properly and legally adopted the child was that he'd have to go through both Tellus and Ventus. A terrible idea all around, really. Unlike his first three children, Ignis was camera shy. He didn't like his picture being taken, and as a result, most of his pictures were impromptu things. There was one of Ignis as a tween pouring over a text with his trademark seriousness. Another was of him and Noctis sitting together reading as younger children. When they'd practically been inseparable. His most prized Ignis picture, though, had been given to him by none other than Tellus, and it showed Ignis as a teenager face-planted in a plate of spaghetti, glasses askew, asleep. Ignis told him to burn that one every time he saw it. Regis would never part with it.

His fifth child was elusive. He had only begun to meet him in person recently, but he had many accounts of Prompto from Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio. He'd mentally taken him instantly. After all, all his other sons seemed so fond, and Regis had a feeling he'd be around for the rest of their lives. Sadly, he only had one picture of his fifth child, and it was one he shared with Noctis, both of them in their high school graduation finery. It was posed, but fine. There was still space on his table. He'd add more pictures of Prompto soon enough.

After all, now that the boy had chosen to join the crownsguard, he could see him quite frequently, usually accompanied by one of his other sons. It seemed that other people noticed that too, because the rumors about the growing relationship blossomed quicker than the spring flowers in the garden. Most of the rumors stated that Noctis had decided to join said relationship or that he'd always been at the center of it. Regis knew that wasn't true, just as much as he knew that the gossip talking about the lust between them was the driving force keeping them together wasn't, either.

There was nothing about the way Noctis looked at Prompto, Ignis, or Gladio that said boyfriends. There was nothing about the hooked fingers, soft smiles, or kisses pressed against cheeks in goodbye that said pure lust either. It was just a shame that Regis never had his phone out when he saw such things. Of course. If he did. He'd need a bigger picture table. Or another one entirely. One right by the door, so that everyone had to look at his children's faces when they came in to talk to him. Clarus wouldn't like that, but Tellus wouldn't stop him. That was all that mattered.

He needed pictures first, though.

His opportunity came by chance in the early afternoon of a chill day in late spring. He'd had a small lull between meetings and he'd stolen away down to the gardens to check on the irises. It hadn't frosted overnight, but Regis had worried a bit anyway. They were the namesake of one of his precious children, after all. He'd quickly confirmed that they were fine, though most of them hadn't started blooming yet. That was all well and fine. He even had enough time to go eat something up in his office before he moved on.

He'd just taken his phone out to ask Clarus to join him when he spotted them. They were mostly hidden away at the end of one of the deliberately narrower garden paths. The spot was often used for people to have private chats among the flowers and had been put in there by his grandfather. It was lucky that his father hadn't destroyed it, as Mors had often sought to destroy anything nice and beautiful. He would never be more glad that it had stayed than in that moment.

Perched upon the concrete bench was Ignis. Perched upon Ignis' lap was Prompto.

They weren't really doing anything but talking. Prompto was wearing training clothes that included a standard crownsguard hoodie that was far too big to be the one they gave him. If Regis had to guess, it was Gladio's. Hadn't at least one of them told him that Prompto went sleeveless whenever possible? He'd probably come without his that morning, and then it turned out to be chill. It would be like Gladio to throw his hoodie at someone he loved if he thought they were cold.

They didn't seem cold, though. The pair of them sat on the bench, a bag of takeout laying nearby, chatting animatedly about something. No, they didn't look cold at all. In fact they looked warm and happy. Regis couldn't resist.

He snapped one-two-three-four pictures before he got close enough for them to notice that he was there. "Majesty!" Ignis said in a panic, his body moving to get up quickly, his entire being seeming to forget that he had the weight of a whole other person on him. Prompto, for his part, gave a soft cry of surprise and clung to Ignis' neck in an effect to not be thrown to the ground. Ignis realized his mistake quickly and instead moved to usher Prompto off of him.

"No, no, as you were, boys." Please, he wanted to add. Please stay just like that. For the rest of your lives. Happy and in love. Affectionate and caring. Regis knew their positions with the crown would cause them enough suffering. Let them keep that happiness. "I was just passing by."

"It's hardly appropriate."

"Now, Ignis. It's fine. I've not caught you doing anything scandalous." To some people it would be. Perhaps if Regis' life had taken a slightly different turn, it would be to him. But they were just sitting. They weren't even kissing. "In fact, I'm relieved to see that someone has made sure you had a proper lunch, Ignis."

Prompto had been holding up quite well until that point, but at this, his face turned redder than a tomato and he turned into Ignis' shoulder. Ignis, perhaps without even knowing he was doing it, reached up and lightly patted a spot between Prompto's shoulder blades. How adorable. "Prompto is quite good to me."

Yes, Regis thought. That was clear. Good _to_ him and good _for_ him.

"I'll leave you two be then. I'll see you in the next meeting, Ignis."

"Of course."

"And I hope I see you soon, Prompto."

Prompto, perhaps miraculously, managed to remember the barest of his court manners and turned his head slightly. "Yes-Yes, Your Majesty."

Why had no one told him his fifth child was that adorable? Regis smiled and then did as promised and left them. By the end of the week, he had the best of his four pictures touched up, printed, and framed. He put it in a spot next to the spaghetti picture. A place of pride and affection.

Though Regis was sure he was far from the first one to notice it, Gladio was the first one to say something about his newest picture. "When did you get this one?" Gladio, bold as ever, actually reached out and picked up the picture. Regis hardly minded. If only people other than his cute children would pay attention to his cute children. He barely bit back a dramatic sigh.

"I took the picture last week. I assume you know what day."

"Why do you say that?" Gladio lifted his eyes away from the picture. Regis could tell that it was a struggle.

"Prompto is wearing your hoodie?"

"Oh." Regis practically melted right there, hearing how Gladio's voice went soft. "So he is." He watched his fingers gently stroke at the frame. He watched his lip twist up into the smallest, gentlest smile he thought he'd ever seen.

"Gladio?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like a copy of that for your own desk?"

A soft cluck of his tongue, a small stretching of that smile. "Yeah. I'd like that a lot." His voice was a whisper, seconds away from tears. Regis didn't comment on it.

How, Regis wondered. How could anyone who saw that kind of a smile and that softness in Gladio's features - how could anyone, who saw them sitting on that bench, happily chatting after eating . . . well. How could anyone think that what they had was anything less than love?


	9. Apology

Gladio frowned and shifted in his chair, his scowl deepening when his father looked up from his paper work but continued a moment longer before pushing it aside, tidying his desk briefly before leaning back in his chair, suddenly making eye contact with a sense of focus that made his son more than a little uncomfortable. Gladio waited. He wasn't interested in this power play bullshit. Clarus would have to be the one that broke the silence, because Gladio sure as hell wasn’t going to. He didn’t even want to be here. He sure as hell hadn’t come just so they could sit here and stare at each other.

“There was a boy.” His father looked distinctly uncomfortable, but Gladio couldn’t say he had a lot of sympathy for his position. After all, he had created the rift between them. Now it was up to him to make things right. “Before I met your mother. He was . . .” His father frowned, scratched his scruff self-consciously, then continued. “Well, at the time, I thought he was everything.”

Oh shit no. If this was another fucking speech about how he needed to focus on his duty and the family legacy, he was going to fucking lose it.

“Then my father sat me down and gave me this whole speech about duty and carrying on the family line. Told me if I didn’t do the right thing, he’d resort to other measures.” Surprise, surprise. Lucius Amicitia was an asshole. “So I broke it off, and I my father set me up with some nice, respectable girls, and I tried to do what was expected of me.”

“And then I met your mother.” The corner of his father’s lips quirked up in the hint of a smile. After all, Eyla hadn’t been what Gladio’s grandfather had wanted, and from what little Gladio himself remembered of the man, he hadn’t exactly held back saying so. “As infuriating as it was, I realized my father was right about one thing.”

He leaned forward, hands clasping in front of him, and Gladio had the feeling that whatever was coming next was really going to piss him off.

“That boy didn’t matter, and in the end, what had happened was for the best. Your mother . . .” Clarus paused, momentarily at a loss for words. If there was one thing that Gladio didn’t doubt, it was the depth and enduring nature of the bond the two had shared. And fucking yet.

“So, what?” Gladio had exactly zero patience for his father’s dramatics. “You’re going to find me some nice girl so I can settle down and realize that Iggy and Prom don’t matter?” This was such fucking bullshit. He didn’t have to listen to this.

“No, that’s not.” His father sighed, dragged a hand across his face. He looked tired. Old. And Gladio didn’t even fucking care. “I just. I thought this was the same thing, but I can see now that I was wrong.” Deep breath, and then that unwavering eye contact was back. Great. Because looking real sincere was going to make up for being an asshole.

“I would . . . like to try to be better.” Gods, Gladio hoped he didn’t look that constipated when he was apologizing. Not that his father was actually apologizing but. He supposed he was trying. That was something. Or probably the best he was going to get, anyway. “If you’ll let me.”

“Man.” Gladio leaned back in his seat, frustrated. To be honest, he was still pretty ticked off, but this was his old man. And for once, he was actually trying. It didn’t seem right to just tell him to fuck off – even if he really, _really_ wanted to. “If you really want to be better, you’re talking to the wrong person.” Maybe it was just because he was used to . . . all of this. But Gladio knew, deep down, sooner or later he’d let it go. Iggy and Prom ought to be the ones he was apologizing to. After all, Prom had been so upset, and Iggy, well. He was a Scientia. He could hold a grudge for years, if he really put his mind to it. For decades, even, if Tellus was anything to go by.

“Yes, of course,” his father agreed immediately, and Gladio just managed not to roll his eyes. _Of course._ It was _obvious_. That’s why this conversation was so damn painful.

“I guess if Ignis and Prompto forgive you,” Gladio added, rising to his feet, “I’ll have no choice but to come around, too.” At least he was trying, sure, but trying wasn’t a quick get out of jail free card. He paused only long enough to make sure his father wasn’t going to give him shit for leaving – he was still his superior officer, after all – and then he was out the door. So done with this conversation. Sure, maybe he should have found all of this encouraging, but. Honestly. It just made him feel tired.

It wasn’t until later, with a little time and distance, that the gravity of what his father had told him had sunk in. Or how difficult it must have been for him to say it. Even considering how far things had come since back then, well.

He didn’t really regret how he’d reacted, but it was nagging at him anyway. Not because it happened. Because that’s just the way things were.

“Yen for your thoughts?” Ignis lowered himself to the cushion next to him, fingertips light against his chin as he leaned over to press their lips together in a brief kiss.

Gladio sighed. His thoughts were so obvious, they were surely worth less than that. “It’s my dad.”

Ignis hummed softly, settling in against his side and smiling softly when Gladio automatically tucked an arm around him, pulling him snug against his chest.

“He called me into his office to chat earlier. I thought it was going to be another lecture.”

“It was not, I take it?” Ignis commented mildly, gently prying when Gladio let the statement hang too long.

“He said he wanted to do better.” Gladio didn’t know how seriously he could take that. The man’d had plenty of opportunities to do better in the past. Why was this different now? “Gave me some story about how his father had treated him the same way and it had all been for the best in the end.” And boy that still didn’t sound like a lead up to ‘I was wrong and I’m sorry.’ Not that he actually ever _had_ apologized in that conversation.

“Mmmm.”

“I just. I don’t know, Iggy.” Really, he didn’t know, exactly, what it was about this that was bothering him . . . beyond just being generally fed up with the situation itself. Maybe that was all. “Did you know my dad was . . . well, queer?”

Ignis’ expression . . . flat lined, for lack of a better description, going neutral in a way Gladio knew wasn’t great news for him. Was there something wrong with that question?

“Gladiolus, dearest.” The strategist pulled back slightly to better meet his eyes, patting his chest lightly as he spoke. To his relief, Gladio thought he detected a twinkle of amusement in his eyes despite the otherwise serious expression. “You know that gaydar isn’t real? I cannot simply look at someone and know.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Stupid question, I know.”

“Quite so,” he agreed, leaning back in to rest his head against his shoulder. “But to answer your question: Like most people, I imagine, I was unaware.”

“Huh.” It was weird, actually. Just. In the sense that it was a reminder, really, of how far he and his father had grown apart over the years, though he thought perhaps this was a secret he’d have kept close regardless. And it was weird, considering, that he still cared to some degree about what his father thought. He didn’t want to. But some part of him still craved his approval. His feelings were . . . complicated.

But enough about that.

“So you have the rest of today off?” Gladio’s hands shifted to rest on his boyfriend’s hips, and he couldn’t help but smirk as the other man shifted to half straddle his lap.

“That’s the plan,” Ignis agreed with a sly smile. “Have something in mind?”

What a fucking tease. Gods. But before he could follow up on that question and show him _exactly_ what he had in mind, they were interrupted by the sound of the apartment door opening, and the quickening of footsteps when a certain someone spotted what he was missing.

“Me, too!” The blond’s shoes were kicked off by the door, and within seconds Gladio found the rest of his lap filled by his other, equally enthusiastic boyfriend.

And he was more than fine with that.


End file.
